


hold me

by pipsqueakparker (lafbaeyette)



Series: Snowbaz Drabbles [9]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Affection, Drabble, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Touch-Starved, boys being soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-29 20:37:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20088409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lafbaeyette/pseuds/pipsqueakparker
Summary: Baz is exhausted. Like, next level exhausted down to his bones.--AKA, The One Where Baz Is Low-Key Affection-Starved And Asks For It





	hold me

**Author's Note:**

> This is the last drabble, at least for a bit. (Unless some of y'all wanna gimme some prompts or ideas for more.) 
> 
> But this is the last one on my tumblr as of this moment, s o.

Baz is exhausted. Like, next level exhausted down to his _bones_. He’s been studying more than sleeping or eating, he was so distracted by preparing for all of his finals he almost forgot to feed for a couple days. Penny has been in a similar state, and Simon is concerned. Of course he’d seen them both in this state before, he did go to school with them the past eight years, but that’s just it. He had _also_ been stressed out and studying, but now he’s on the outside and trying to take care of both of them so they don’t actually die of sleep deprivation or starvation, or in Baz’s case, lose his mind of thirst. (All of which is honestly leading to Simon slowly losing his mind of a different brand of thirst, but that isn’t what’s important at the moment.)

But finals have passed, and now Baz is exhausted as he slumps onto the sofa next to Simon.

“Last test, then, wasn’t it?” Simon doesn’t look away from the telly as he speaks, but does stretch his arm around Baz’s shoulders. Baz leans into him, nodding. “How’d you do?”

“Brilliant, of course.” Baz turns into Simon, moving in even closer. “I didn’t study that hard to do anything less, now stop talking about academics and hold me, please.”

Simon does turn his head at that, because Baz doesn’t ask for attention. Not verbally, at least. He’s not very subtle when he’s being needy, but Simon can’t remember the last time Baz outrightly asked for any sort of affection.

“What was that?” Simon’s lips turned up at the corners because this was a historic moment in their relationship. Baz often teases Simon about his own insistence on being held, or kissed, or hugged, or fucked. It’s not Simon’s fault that this is the one area of his life where he is perfectly vocal on his wants or needs.

“You heard me.” Baz murmurs into Simon’s neck, hiding his face and the blush that was beginning to climb across it.

“Mm, no, I’m not sure I did, darling.” Simon leans back, laughing at the way Baz whines and scrabbles for hold of his waist, trying to pull him back.

“_Simon_,” Baz pouts, lifting his head to glare at him. “I’m knackered, I just finished the most hell-ish week of uni, and I just want my boyfriend to fucking_ hold me_ for a while, okay?”

Simon grins and wraps Baz up in his arms, positively thriving when his boyfriend nuzzles into his chest, and plants a kiss to the top of his head.

“All you had to do was ask, Baz.”

“You’re a nightmare, Snow.”

“Mm, but I’m your nightmare. And you want me to _hold you_.”

Baz has half a mind to get up and leave, just to spite him. But the stronger half of his mind won’t allow him to move. Of course he wants Simon to hold him, he wants Simon to never let go of him because he’s weak, and soft, and desperately starved of this particular flavor of attention.

Instead of saying anything like that, he just nestles further into Simon’s embrace and whispers, “Shut up, Simon.”

Simon doesn’t stop smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, wasn't until re-reading this one that I realized how much I wanna write some thoroughly touch-starved Baz. I'll have to make a note of that. 
> 
> Come find me on tumblr, @pipsqueakparker. I like friends. <3


End file.
